


Fifteen Minutes of Blank Tape; Repose

by PearOfTheStars



Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club, Televoid! (Web Series)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Depression, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Metaphors, Short & Sweet, The Void, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21703006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearOfTheStars/pseuds/PearOfTheStars
Summary: Floating in the gray area between the highs and the lows is safe but only for so long.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	Fifteen Minutes of Blank Tape; Repose

**Author's Note:**

> Ari uses metaphors and weird connotations to project their depression onto Televoid, I guess.
> 
> Ian is always depression projection fodder im so sorry bb
> 
> Also it's just been a while since I've uploaded so heyyoo

The static was calming, in a way. In a strange, strange way.

The ever present hiss laid down a soft background, while the pops and crackles warped the edges, covering the softer tune in a blanket of entirely unpredictable sounds.

All of it blurred together into a symphonic song, dizzyingly hypnotic in the way it lulled the mind slowly into the depths of a more peaceful version of nothingness.

The static never used to be comforting. It used to make Ian pull his hair out. Used to taunt him, flickering ever present on the television until the sound hurt to hear and he only heard the highest of the whines splitting through the air. He scratched at his scalp to ease the pain, only to come away with blood under his fingernails.

But he learned after a while it was better than the silence, the  _ absolute  _ silence.

If pitch black was an audible experience than Ian's surroundings did it justice. There was no hum of electricity from the television once it was turned off. Once the screen went gray, the air went still.

It was strangling, the silence. As much as Ian screamed into the void around him for lack of anything better to do, there was no echo. The sound was wicked away into the darkness as soon as it rolled off his tongue. Without the camera to record his voice he wasn't sure he even had one at all, sometimes.

He was left alone with his head in the silence. A terrible thing, given what thoughts could do. An ugly mind never looked prettier in self reflection.

So the static had become a comfort. A beautiful purgatory while he waited for episodes to interrupt his solitude, salt and pepper snow creating cotton in his ears. It kept him from the absolute, the absolute silence, and the roaring of his thoughts.


End file.
